<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>You're joking, right? by stygianCreator (JynX245)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23408458">You're joking, right?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JynX245/pseuds/stygianCreator'>stygianCreator (JynX245)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Homestuck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Death, Angst, Character Death, Drabble, Gen, Hanahaki Disease, Homophobia?, Hospital, Mistakes were made, One-Sided Attraction, and John made them, temporary amnesia?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 07:40:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,648</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23408458</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JynX245/pseuds/stygianCreator</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He made a lot of mistakes, but the other made the worst one.<br/>And denial got nobody anywhere.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dave Strider/John Egbert (one sided), John Egbert &amp; Dave Strider</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>You're joking, right?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His eyes open slowly, the blurred world coming into focus around him. For a moment, he lays there, dimly aware of sounds around him, people moving and sirens blaring.<br/>He doesn’t move, doesn’t resist as he’s moved, lifted and carried. <br/>His eyes close again, and he tries to think back, to recall what happened and where he was.<br/>Who…<br/>He…<br/>Was…<br/>…</p><p>
  <em>John tilts his head at Dave. The warm summer breeze wraps around the pair as they lean over the water below.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>“Dave? What did you mean the other day, when you asked me if I’d ever hate you?” The blonde skips a stone over the water. One, two, three skips and then it plunges under. He takes a minute to reply, slowly coming up with,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>“…sometimes, it’s hard to know who you can rely on, right? You begin to wonder if the people you know will always been there,” he adjusts his shades, smiling faintly at John, the smile reserved for him, Dave’s best friend. John’s heart lightens, and he waits patiently for Dave to continue, skipping his own stone. “People are weird and while they’ll support you, they sometimes just...skip town if you do the wrong thing, if you get my drift. Knowing you won’t just up and abandon a bro really makes things easier, though.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>John lifts his gaze from the water, wondering why this topic has become so oddly important recently. Dave chucks a stone into the distance, and they watch it bounce over the water, two, four, six skips. He asks,<br/>“Did something happen, Dave? You said your bro was getting worse,” lackadaisically hurling a stone into the water and watching it sink beneath the surface, “is that what’s making you worried recently?” Immediately, his question is met with a dismissive shake of Dave’s head. He doesn’t answer immediately though, instead watching the sky as it dims into a summer sunset.<br/>“…you know, it’s hard to say why,” he replies softly, “some days I feel like I can tell you everything, anything, and you’d understand. You’re my best friend after all, and we’ve always been this way. You know me almost better than anyone else on this chunk of rock.” John nods, knowing what he means. The other boy’s scars catch the dimming sunlight, scores of ghostly skin marring his otherwise smooth arms. After another pause, John asks softly,<br/>“So…what’s the problem? You can tell me.” Dave drops a pebble, watching it vanish from sight before it hits the water. He swallows.</em>
</p><p>
  <em><br/>“…nah. Anyway, did you see that celebrity marriage on tv? The two actors? It was pretty cool, wasn’t it?” John wrinkles his nose, trying to recall, and then replies with a twist in his gut,<br/>“The gays?” Dave exhales softly, and nods. “It was a nice wedding but…Man, I just don’t understand gay people. It’s so weird, like, what’s the deal? It’s not…not right. How are you supposed to have kids?- it’s just so weird and uncomfortable.” Dave winces faintly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em><br/>“…yeah,” he agrees in a flat tone that falls on deaf ears, “…weird world we live in, ain’t it?” He runs his scarlet gaze over John, drinking in the sight of him, knowing it’s forbidden. He knows that admitting this would destroy their friendship- or their relationship in general, forever.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He throws another stone, watching it be swallowed up by the depths, feeling as if he sinks with it.</em>
</p><p>“He’s conscious,” a voice breaks through his recollection, and he becomes aware of his surroundings again, of someone holding their hand in front of his eyes trying to get his attention. “Unresponsive, but he’s conscious at least. Can you hear me?” The voice rings in his skull, and he flinches, covering his eyes. His arm aches, but he prefers this to having the florescent lights stabbing into his sensitive pupils. <br/>He gives into recollection, trying harder, more desperately to remember himself. It’s all so…blurry.</p><p>
  <em>Dave drew his hand through the paint, and playfully plops his hand onto John’s cheek, coating the other’s skin with red as he squeals, and smacks Dave with a handful of blue paint.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Soon, they’re laughing and covering each other in spots of color, red and blue blurring on their bodies until they’re covered in purple. </em>
  <br/>
  <em>“Aw man, look at this mess Dave,” John laughs breathlessly. Dave grins. <span class="u">God he’s perfect. He’s beautiful, look at his smile, and how he covers it up because he’s self conscious, god, John you don’t need to hide your teeth, they’re adorable just like the rest of you</span>. His heart aches, tugging as he watches the other wiping paint away.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>“You look good in paint though,” he jokes, and John sticks out his tongue, retorting, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s kinda gay Dave!” Dave’s stomach plummets, and he remembers with an unwelcome chill that John is homophobic. It can be so easy to forget because in every other way he’s just- so perfect…there is so much to love about him that his flaws seem minute, except that one, glaring painfully at Dave and his heavy secret.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>“…yeah…sorry.”</em>
</p><p>“His vitals are stable and his brain signals are functioning. I don’t know what’s wrong with him- maybe he’s just not talking?”</p><p>
  <em>The last thing John remembered was the rooftop. Dave’s words, a hand on his arm that he pulls back from.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>“Don’t- DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!” He shouts, and the blonde flinches back as though struck, “You’re- gross! How long have you been lying to me and pretending to be straight so you could get closer to me? We shared a bed, slept over!”</em>
  <br/>
  <em>His revulsion is fragmented, directed outward at the shrinking boy, and inward at the small and helpless part of him that pleads for acknowledgement. He feels disgusting- his own skin feels like it’s covered in oil, and his scalp crawls. Dave catches his wrist, and pleads,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“John, it’s not like that- I swear! I’ve never done anything to you, or used you! Please, listen to me! I need you right now, you’re my bes-"<br/>“No! Don’t say that now, Dave!” John spits out the words as though he’d bit his tongue. Dave coughs softly, and he begs John,<br/>“Please, just hear me out John, you can hate me if you really want but I need your help!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>John yanks his wrist away from him, stumbling back against the fenced edge of the roof. Dave’s eyes widen and he tries to warn him, “Wait, s-"<br/>“I don’t want to hear excuses!” John’s hand came towards Dave’s face as a feeble attempt to push the other away, instead knocking the other’s shades to the ground, revealing red eyes welling with tears.<br/>“No, you-" John steps back, and Dave lunges, trying to catch him, only for John to lash out and try to run the other direction.<br/>“The fence isn’t stable!!”<br/>Dave’s shout comes too late, the concrete around the fence post crumbling, the metal giving out under the other’s weight. Everyone in the building knew to be careful, there was always talk of getting a repairman to handle it. But John isn’t from this place.</em>
</p><p>
  <em><br/>As the ground gave way and he began to topple backwards through the space where the fence had been, Dave grabs his hand desperately. John’s breath catches in his throat as he feels his body hanging in the air, with nothing to stop him from plummeting except Dave’s hand.</em>
</p><p><em>A scream had made its way out of his mouth when he first felt he was going to fall, but now it’s a whimper, catching in his chest as Dave struggles to pull him back up. He watches helplessly as the other’s sneaker skid over the concrete, losing ground,<br/>“Dave- you’re gonna sl-" </em> <em>you’re gonna slip, he had been about to say, but his warning didn’t make it. <br/>They’re falling. John barely has a second to realize his weight dragged Dave over the edge. They’re falling, he’s falling, they’re going to die, <span class="u">I don’t want to die!!</span><br/>A voice cruelly pipes up in him, reminding him that this was his fault, if he hadn’t been such a baby he wouldn’t have fallen, Dave wouldn’t have tried to save him-<br/>He feels arms wrapping him, and a soft cough is swallowed by the wind as Dave shifts them so he’s on the bottom, between John and the ground. The realization is sudden, and he stutters out, <br/>“D-Dave you’re?-" Another soft hacking cough cuts him off, and Dave holds him tightly.<br/>The last thing he heard before they hit the ground was,<br/>“I love you John.”<br/>And another cough.</em></p><p>When his vision had faded in, Dave had realized the ground around them was covered in flowers, forget-me-nots from his painful coughs, and blood, the concrete dyed crimson. He had failed, but how?—<br/>John had struggled free, forcing his body between Dave and the ground,</p><p>
  <em>“This is my fault. I’m sorry Dave-“</em>
</p><p><br/>He had failed.<br/>He had <em>failed.</em><br/>He lays back in the bed, staring at the sterile walls of the hospital. A numb sensation spreads outwards from his chest, his breathing gradually catching in his throat.<br/>He’s greeted by doctors, who seem amazed that he’s as intact as he is, and he only asks bluntly,</p><p><br/>“Did he make it?” There’s shrugs and a reluctant, <br/>“…the boy you fell with? No…he took the brunt of the impact. Do you know him?”<br/>Dave swallows, and mumbles,<br/>“…yeah…yeah I do, he’s…he was my best friend.” The doctor gestures, and quietly says,<br/>“Was he in love?” Dave pauses, and asks, confused,<br/>“Why? Not that I know of?” The doctor continues,<br/>“When he hit the ground, his ribcage was splintered and his lungs were exposed. They had begun to grow flowers- very early stages of hanahaki.” Dave’s heart drops.</p><p><br/>“He what?”<br/>And midway through “what”, he began to cough, and the flowers spill down his chin.<br/><em>How did I?...</em></p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>